Potentially
by Cril
Summary: One-shot. He understands that he reaches for a butterfly, one that can only be obtained and held with your bare hands. He also understands that he reaches for the frailest of all...


Shuggazoom's sun, like all stars, is a destructive, fiery, violent force, and with its own stands brighter than any other celestial creation. In the kingdom of the universe, it is these entities which reign supreme. Even in their death they are untouchable. They are invincible to all things, living or not, that bear witness to their wonder. Anything that dares come too near will incinerate into nothing in a matter of seconds. But seen from so incredibly far away, sitting in a bright blue sky, it is understood that the sun is also very kind. Despite its dangerous, godly potential, Shuggazoom's sun does not destroy, at least not unless something has the gall to come too near. No, it does not destroy, not now. For now it is...peaceful...as peaceful as such an unrivaled power can be. Yet eventually, that will end . It will die as all things do, and when it does it will unleash all its fury and might to everything within its reach – it's merciless goodbye. But that will not happen for millions of years to come. For now, it is peaceful. For now it is generous. For now, it gives. It gives and maintains life, the greatest gift, by providing the only thing it has to offer – heat, as it does every day, as it did on this day...

Its warmth, humbled by the distance it crossed, washed over his skin, parts flesh and parts metallic. He reveled in the feeling, though no one would ever know just by looking at him. His face was impassive, devoid of any emotion, the way it always was whenever he chose to separate his mind from his body and meditate. Here, on this cliff that overlooked the sea he sought tranquility. Of course, he could do this within his home, the Super Robot, and he usually does. But this time he sought the kind of peace that can only be achieved when one is physically away from the overly familiar.

There was nothing bothering Antauri. This was just something he wanted to do. He had not returned to this spot in a very long time and this Spring afternoon seemed ideal. The sky was its truest of blues, interrupted only by a handful of scattered puffy white clouds. The air itself was at a temperature in which he could not tell whether it was warm or cool. It was perfectly in-between. But out in the open, exposed to the sun, he felt warm.

He and his team had come back two days ago. It had been almost a year since the hyperforce had been on their planet, their home-world. It had taken that long to deal with the universal inhabitants' latest threat. It felt good to be done with it. To have downtime that didn't involve constantly watching their backs in anticipation for the next lethal attack. To be able to finally just drop everything and do whatever the hell they wanted to.

As protectors of the universe, they have their work cut out for them.

Protectors. Fighters. Warriors. That is what they are. Antauri finds it a bit ironic. He does not like fighting, he does not enjoy destruction. In fact, he resents it, yet he continues to fight anyway and he wouldn't be surprised if he did that more than anything else. He does this because he has to, because he needs to. It is his duty. He does it to protect the innocent from all those who live for and are addicted to chaos. He does it to save all the masses who do not deserve to have their lives obliterated by the limitless corrupted, power-hungry minds bent on controlling every peoples they can get their hands on. He takes no pleasure in violence but it is necessary, and it is the only way he can fulfill his cause. If there was another, less...senseless way to stop it all, he would take it in a heartbeat. But, to his displeasure, there is not. So he does what he can with what methods there are, like everyone else...

He felt a presence. It was tiny, insignificant, and easily ignorable, yet he chose not to ignore it. His closed optics could not see it but he knew it was there. He could not feel it for his mechanic appendages had no way to do so but he was aware that it was there, resting on the tip of his finger.

It had found him still as stone, amazing considering that he was hovering unmistakably above the green embellished ground below him by means of only his mind. Chances were that it hadn't the faintest idea that its newfound post was alive. Then again, that made no difference to such a being. As long as the cyborg didn't move, he was something to land on.

It had found him still as stone, and so he remained.

Antauri cracked open an eyelid, curious to see just what his visitor looked like.

It was a butterfly.

He had figured, as anyone would, that it was of the insect classification and that it had some airborne capabilities but he had not expected this. Actually, he had not bothered to expect anything.

His eye took a moment to view the creature. Its size was small, even for a butterfly but it was beautifully adorned as its kind had such a tendency to be.

Antauri closed his eye again as the faintest of smiles appeared on his face, disrupting his impassive expression. He felt a childish pride at this encounter. Although it is rarely, if ever, spoken of, to have a butterfly land on you of its own unpersuaded accord is considered some sort of honor; not many are suitable enough to be so much as touched by one of these creatures, but why anyone would care at all seems rather silly. They are just bugs after all.

Antauri does not mind butterflies, he sort of likes them. It is hard not to. They don't buzz haphazardly like most other flying insects, they instead flutter gracefully as if their flight is a thoroughly rehearsed dance. All are harmless to anything that is not a plant, and they just so happen to be pleasing to look at. One could easily describe them as wandering ornaments, there merely for the sake of uplifting in their simple ways. Their true purpose, of course, is much more practical than that, but it is so easily and so often overlooked...

It flew away.

His smile dissipated as his robotic ears received a transmission from Sparx. There was trouble in the city. Another monster.

Both eyes open, Antauri could see his departed visitor flittering off into the distance...

There was one thing Antauri wanted more than anything else but he knew that it may never happen. And even if it did, he may not live to see it. But that mattered not for he would readily give his life for it. Nothing would ever stop him from striving for it...even if it is a fool's dream.

He does what he can with what methods there are to make this dream a reality. Those methods, however, are deeply flawed. Anyone can see that. But he does not settle for what there is. For as long as he lives he will strive for the way it could be.

He understands that he reaches for a butterfly, one that can only be obtained and held with your bare hands. He also understands that he reaches for the frailest of all...

The jet on his back activated and he raced off to the city, the same way he had done so many times before.

* * *

**A/N:** This was done completely on a whim and I've never successfully written something symbolic before. I'm not saying this is successful, I'm saying it's better than my previous attempts. Sorry if it doesn't make sense. Also, sorry if I'm off on a few things - I didn't research.


End file.
